Nursery Rhyme
by Atreyl
Summary: Mello clearly remembered his mother, when he was little, cooing nursery rhymes in his ear softly as he dozed off to sleep. Now, older, he realizes how some of those innocent rhymes seemed to portray him and Matt.
1. Little Lamb

**Little Lamb**

**(Slightly AU; Matt and Mello meet, before Wammy's...the ending scene is set at Wammy's)  
**

_Mary had a little lamb_

_Who's fleece was white as snow_

_And everywhere that Mary went_

_That lamb was sure to go_

_

* * *

_

It was a relatively normal day on Mello's part. The five-year-old blond child pulled on his backpack, silently walking past his parents, who were passed out on the couch. When they woke up, they would be in what they called 'hangovers.' Mello didn't want to be around to witness that.

The door creaked mercilessly as he shut it. Thankfully, no angry father or mother came out, face flushed in anger, yelling swear words.

Their patio was long neglected, but the sunshine made it look a little more decent. Golden rays of light--the same shade of Mello's hair-- streamed down onto the leaf-cluttered granite floor. The round coffee table stood all alone in one corner...and was that a little boy hiding underneath?

Curious, Mello went down on his fours, crawling up to the stranger taking refuge under the table. The boy's hair was a red mess, head cast down into his knees, which were drawn up to his chest. He was asleep, it seemed.

"Hello?" Mello tentatively poked the exposed knee, noticing with a wince the scratches that lacerated the porcelain skin.

"H-huh?" The red-haired boy looked up, eyes wide behind silly goggles. His cheeks, Mello noted, were bruised.

Before Mello could answer, there was a loud crash from inside his home. Quickly, he pulled the redhead out. "Come on, before my parents find us." The two sneaked out the front gate, iron and rusted.

"I-I'm sorry," the redhead stammered once they had started walking along the sidewalk, starting the short walk to Mello's preschool. "I t-thought that it w-was abandoned."

"It's okay," Mello said, smiling innocently. Worried, he took the younger boy's hand when he saw he was limping. "Do you want to go to the hospital?" Mello had very little experience with hospitals, but he'd seen them in TV shows and could probably navigate his way around.

"No hospital." The redhead suddenly stopped, taking a step away from the five-year-old blond. "You're going to bring me back to them, aren't you?" He asked accusingly.

Mello tilted his head to the side. His eyes took in the sight of the shorter boy before him: a pure white fleece shirt(unusually clean), brown knee-length shorts stained with dirt, and grass stained sneakers. Where had he come from? Had he run away? "I'm not going to if you don't want me to." He smiled again, putting out his hand. "I'm Mello. What's your name?"

The redhead looked him over once, before deciding he could trust him. Shyly, he gripped Mello's flawless hand with his calloused one. "I'm Matt."

"Nice to meet you, Matt," the blond chirped, resuming walking. "Would you like to go to school with me?"

"What's school?" Matt asked curiously, basking in Mello's bright glow of energy.

"School is where you get to learn things," Mello said, looking excited. "If I ask Mr. Lawrence, I think you can come to school with me! That would be fun, don't'cha think?"

Matt made a face. "I don't like to learn. Who's Mr. Lawrence?"

"He's really nice; he gives me chocolate all the time," Mello gushed. "He's really smart too, y'know. I want to be just like him someday. Oh, we're here!" Mello started to run to the opened doors of his beloved preschool, Matt tagging along hesitantly.

Mello wouldn't turn him in, would he?

_No, he wouldn't!_ a voice from his mind told him. _He's too nice. He wouldn't do such a thing._

"Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Lawrence!" Mello stopped right in front of an adult in a suit. "I want you to meet my new friend, Matt."

"Hello, Matt." Mr. Lawrence smiled down at him.

Again, Matt felt shy at the sincere eyes.

"Will he be going to school with you, Mello?" The teacher asked.

"Well, not yet, but I was hoping you could let him in!" Mello said.

Mr. Lawrence's eyebrows furrowed in worry. "I cannot do that without his legal guardian, I'm afraid."

Mello blinked, though he pressed on, "_I _am his guardian."

Matt felt a wave of unexpected happiness flood through him.

"I cannot do that, Mello, I'm sorry," Mr. Lawrence apologized, and excused himself to go back in the building.

"...You can't come," Mello said softly once he was gone.

"It's okay," Matt said optimistically. "I'll wait here outside anyway."

"Will you be okay?"

"Of course!"

Later on, when the children were dismissed from the prison known as school, Mello was the first to rush out. "Matty!" He called, using the nickname he had decided upon earlier. "I'm here, you can come out now!"

Matt came tumbling out of a shrub, the once-snow white fleece sweater cake with tanbark and dirt.

"Silly," Mello giggled, smoothing out the leaves in that wonderfully soft mess of red hair.

Matt blushed at the affection he was getting. "Thanks. I stole this shirt anyway."

Mello hit him lightly. "Not nice to steal."

"I don't like it, either," Matt said airily, feeling at ease with the blond.

"About tomorrow..." Mello started as they began to walk back to his house, "...I can probably sneak you in to my room for tonight, but for school..."

"No worries, I'll just wait for you outside."

"We can't do that! What if it rains?"

"I don't care."

"What if it snows really really hard and you freeze off your tiny nose?"

"I'll still be waiting, Mello."

--

Eleven years later, the redhead, though now grown, with broader shoulders and a taller height, the white fleece shirt replaced with a striped one, stood in front of Mello, expression one of puzzlement. "What?" He asked. The voice had become deeper with that tone that Mello had grown to love.

"I'm leaving, Matt." The blond swallowed back the lump forming in his throat. "Don't expect me to come back."

Though as Matt watched his boyfriend leave the orphanage for good, he had a feeling that Mello would come back for him.

And he'd be waiting, whether it be raining or snowing really really hard that his nose could freeze off. _I'll still be waiting, Mello._

_

* * *

_

_"But does the lamb love Mary so?"_

_"And Mary loves the lamb, you know."  
_


	2. Remember, Remember

**Remember, Remember  
**

**(Italicized scene is a flashback, set shortly after Mello leaves Wammy's)**

_Remember, remember_

_The fifth of November_

_Gunpowder, treason, and plot_

_

* * *

_

_"Mello, are you sure no one's going to get hurt?" Matt asked nervously, his fingers clenching and unclenching at the side of his waist._

_"Of course not," Mello snorted as he set the last bomb in the garden. "And if someone does, then it won't be our fault. It will be Adelaida's, remember?"_

_Matt nodded. "But aren't we three in this together...?"_

_"No, Matty." Mello stood up, brushing dust off of his pants. "It's something called treason. If something goes wrong, or if Roger narrows it down to the three of us, you and I will say it was Adelaida's fault. That's the plan."_

_Matt knitted his eyebrows together in confusion, then shrugged it off. He trusted Mello with all of his ten-year-old heart. "Okay. It's only going to blow up in the garden, right?"_

_"Mhm," Mello said impatiently._

_"And you're very, very sure no one's going to get hurt?" _

_"Yes, Matt. Now, get to your hiding place. They're coming!" Mello pushed him forward before running away to his hiding place behind a large bush. Matt stumbled behind a giant pillar in the patio, watching as Roger's afternoon science class filed in the garden. Adelaida was among them, and she was smiling evilly._

It won't be long until that smile's wiped off her face, _Matt thought, getting excited by the second. He knew this was wrong, but he couldn't help the thrill playing tricks on other people gave him. Especially when Mello was his cohort. The chocoholic always managed to think up of something atrocious._

_Matt began the countdown.  
_

_"We will be identifying different types of flowers this afternoon," Roger said, gesturing to the pretty flowers behind him. The children listened intently, unaware of the explosion that would soon happen. "Now, if someone could tell me--"_

KABOOM!

_Matt fell back, his backside hitting the floor hard. He swore that the world was shaking, but maybe that was just his eyes. He tried standing up and only succeeded in hitting his head on the pillar. Blinking profusely, he blindly groped around the smoky environment until a hand grabbed his arm. _

_"C'mon, Matt," Mello hissed in his ear. "We have to get away before the smoke clears. Follow me."_

_Matt nodded, coughing once before he was yanked forward. He led himself be led out of the garden and into the orphanage, his legs feeling numb. The duo reached their rooms, collapsing on the bed. _

_There was a short silence before Mello started giggling. Matt glanced once at his partner before starting to chuckle as well. "That was great, Mels," the redhead sighed, clasping the older boy's hand with his own._

_"Best trick...ever," Mello said breathlessly, trying to catch his breath in between fits of laughter. Eventually they quieted, and Mello raised their linked hands up to the roof, studying the adjoined appendages thoughtfully. "You're my best friend, Matty, you know that?" He turned his head to smile at Matt lazily._

_"Of course, Mels." Matt smiled back, chest heaving. He looked appreciatively at their hands holding each other's, and couldn't help but smile even wider._

_--_

He was sprawled helter-skelter across the bed that he and Mello had once slept in together. His hand was raised up to the ceiling, much like that moment four years ago. Only now, there was no other hand gripping his, and he was holding air.

With a tired sigh, Matt lowered his arm to his stomach, tapping it mindlessly against his clothed abdomen. "Why didn't you take me with you, Mels?" he murmured, glancing briefly at the calendar pinned to the plaster wall. The date was November fifth, a day that seemed unimportant to most people.

November fifth.

That day, though, held a special place in Matt's heart and he hurt just thinking about it. Every year on the same day, he recalled, he and Mello would play a prank on the orphanage. This time, however, Mello was gone and November fifth seemed so..._empty._

This wasn't right.

Matt picked himself up from the bed, going to his closet, searching for those materials he and Mello had used four years ago. He found the half-full jar of gunpowder, along with several other necessities to make a bomb.

Hiding the supplies in a box, he walked down to the garden and hastily prepared the bomb. He set it on the same spot it had been set four years ago: behind the row of sunflowers and roses.

And he hid himself behind that same pillar as he watched Roger's afternoon science class walk in the garden. Adelaida was no longer there; she had mysteriously disappeared two years ago, but that was another story. For now, Matt focused on the class Roger was teaching, as well as starting the countdown. In the middle of a lecture, the bomb went off and smoke filled the area.

Matt leaned heavily on the pillar for a few seconds, then dashed away back inside. His heart raced and he felt that familiar thrill rush through his veins.

However, when he burst in his room and flopped down on his bed, turned to the side, grinned, said, "Was that great or what?" he realized Mello wasn't there.

Yes, the thrill of playing the joke was there, but he found that it didn't feel the same without his partner in crime.

* * *

_I see no reason_

_Why gunpowder, treason_

_Should ever be forgot_

_

* * *

_**I don't care if there's no type of bomb that uses gunpowder. :)**_  
_


	3. Along Came a Spider

**Along Came a Spider**

_Little Miss Muffet_

_Sat on a tuffet_

_Eating her curds and whey_

_

* * *

_Matt, eight years old, scowled at the plate of food he had in his hands. The curd was pale as a piece of chalk, and certainly as hard as one. Eyes narrowed in distaste behind orange-tinted goggles, Matt picked up a piece and knocked it against his plate. It clunked, bits of powder coming off to shower down to the grass.

_Why did Linda have to write that petition?_ Matt thought in remorse. _Wammy's was bad enough with the salad bar, but curd? It's too much. _

Matt set the curd back down on his plate. Why did Roger have to take away the snack bar? The children were all surely going to die of starvation except Linda, who was happily munching away on the piece-of-crap curd, probably.

"Maybe it's not too bad..." Matt murmured, managing to break off a bit of curd. He brought it to his lips hesitantly, then popped it into his mouth and chewed.

_Hey, _he thought. _It isn't too---OH, GOD! SPIDER!_

He now noticed the small black spider sitting next to him on the tuffet.

Matt gulped, inching away very slowly. Then, the spider lunged and the redhead screamed, fleeing from the spot outside and back into the safe confines of the orphanage. Along the way, he dropped his plate, but he didn't really care. All he _did _care about, however, was that a spider had been _this _close to biting him! It could have given him rabies! Wait...did spiders have rabies? Matt wasn't sticking around to find out.

Whimpering, he slumped down against the wall beside the door and buried his face into his hands. He could feel his heart wildly thumping a thousand miles a minute, thanks to his arachnophobia. His goggles were already half filled with tears so he pulled them away a bit, letting the liquid drop to his striped shirt.

"Hey, are you okay?" Someone asked softly.

Matt jumped in surprise, backing himself further against the wall. He stared at the other boy kneeling beside him through auburn bangs with wide green eyes concealed by his goggles. Matt sniffed. "Y-yeah."

"What happened?" The other boy eased himself beside the redhead. Matt squirmed uncomfortably, wondering if the boy was carrying a spider.

"You're not carrying a spider, are you?" he asked with hopeful air.

"I'm not." The blond boy held up his hands.

"Pinky swear you don't?" Matt asked.

"I pinky swear." The blond boy locked pinkies with him, smiling. "I'm Mello, by the way."

Matt nodded. "I'm Matt."

"So, what happened?"

"I s-saw a spider."

Amusement hinted at Mello's eyes. "Oh, really?"

"Really." Matt nodded solemnly. "It was black and really scary. And it jumped at me, too, but it didn't get me." He beamed. "I was too fast!"

Mello laughed. "I'm sure you were."

"Hey, will you warn me if you see a spider near me?" Matt asked abruptly, looking at Mello with serious eyes.

"Sure." Mello glanced behind the redhead. "There's one now."

Matt squealed in terror, shoving himself into Mello's side and arms coming up to wrap around the blond's waist. "Kill it, kill it!" he whimpered.

"I was just kidding," Mello said, looking down at the frightened boy.

Matt looked at him distrustfully. "I'm arach--arachon--ara--" he tried, stumbling on the word.

"Arachnophobic?" Mello offered.

"Yes." Matt glanced behind his shoulder. "That."

A few more seconds passed, and Mello said, "You can un-cling from me now."

Matt blushed a scarlet shade. "Sorry." He detached himself from Mello.

"So, I have some decent food," Mello began, getting up. "Want some? The curd is...well, the curd is turd." He offered Matt an outstretched hand.

Matt giggled, accepting the hand and getting to his feet. "Okay!" Then he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "As long as there are no spiders."

Mello smiled, casually putting an arm around Matt's shoulders possessively. "I won't let anything hurt you, I promise."

* * *

_Along came a spider_

_Who sat down beside her_

_And frightened Miss Muffet away  
_


End file.
